


Six Strings

by celestifox



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Humor, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 21:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5471252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestifox/pseuds/celestifox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kageyama Tobio is a gifted guitarist who excels at accuracy and technique.</p><p>But cold precision alone isn't what makes a great musician. </p><p>Kageyama might have to learn that the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Strings

**Author's Note:**

> *some characters listed may not show up right away, but will eventually be written in. Hang tight!

Six strings. Twenty-some frets. A near infinite amount of melodic possibilities all waiting to be realized, sung out, and experienced. 

Kageyama Tobio had fond memories of sitting uncomfortably cross-legged on an antique rug that bore a faint aroma of lavender and what was it called? Patchouli? Yeah, that was probably it. He’d run his fingers along the plush surface, tracing idly the intricate patterns as he became lost in compositions favoring the key of G, sometimes E. 

His breaths would come easily, robustly pulling air into his lungs and then fluidly emptying them, the cares of the world fading until they were nothing. His eyes would softly flutter shut, his small and clumsy fingers, still tracing, would move in time with the tune. 

Kageyama Tobio, a child sometimes described as uptight and too serious was put under a spell every morning of every day of every summer of his youth. That was when his grandfather would reach for his trusted companion, a beautiful sunburst guitar that made everything sound warm, alive, real. 

That was when his grandfather would share with Kageyama the very thing that would drive him daily: music. 

It was music that inspired Kageyama more than anything in the entire world; it made him feel his world like nothing else could. Actually feel things. He could retreat into music, thrive in its walls, and exist in the most genuine way he possibly could. It was what he could depend on when nothing else made sense, the only thing he knew could be counted on when things became undesirable, much like this pompous jerk-hole. 

“Hello?!” a large but well-manicured hand flailed haphazardly in front of his face and Kageyama immediately regained his footing in the current situation. Just as his eyes started to focus on the tall form that was irritatingly close to him, he saw a familiar proud face snap to the left while whining, “are you kidding me right now?!”

“What?” Kageyama huffed awkwardly, still a little off-guard.

“What do you mean what?! You were spacing out! AGAIN!” the face whirled back in his direction, sour expression reigning over what should have been a face belonging to someone kind, pure, and not Oikawa Tooru. He withdrew his hand from the startled face in front of him and placed it brashly on his hip, biting his tense pout in annoyance.

“We were finalizing the set list for Friday,” the striking boy began, cocking up an eyebrow high above a chocolate eye, “you know the one for that important gig that we absolutely can’t screw up?” 

Kageyama just stared back at him for what felt like an entire hour before nodding slightly. He grunted in understanding.

Of course he remembered. They had their first real show in two days opening for a respectably popular band from their town. They’d played a small party or two before, but never something as official as this. Everyone understood how important this was. Especially Kageyama.

He didn’t exactly know the details of how they landed an opportunity like this, but he was sure it had to have been born from his senior’s irritating antics. Kageyama could imagine Oikawa chatting up one of the band’s members; laughing a touch too loud, and possibly, no definitely, flirting his way in. Oikawa was flashy, hard to ignore, and damn good at getting what he wanted. At least this time those qualities had given way to something positive. 

Oikawa clicked his tongue and shut his eyes, bringing a hand up to rest on his forehead as if he had suddenly gotten a headache. He sighed in a slightly dramatic fashion and then returned his hand to his tilted hip and his aggravated gaze back to Kageyama’s face. His eyes looked dangerously sharp. 

Somehow it always got to this point: they’d be progressing through their routine and then Oikawa would get angry at Kageyama and proceed to stomp around, hit his strings a bit too hard, and curtly bite out words rather than sing them. It wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. And it definitely didn’t make him any more useful. 

It didn’t look like this practice would be an exception.

“Don’t fret, Tobio-chan,” Kageyama clenched his jaw faintly at the nickname and Oikawa turned his back to him, kneeling down to adjust the levels on his amplifier. He then looked over his shoulder and stated coolly, “we’ve got it all taken care of so you have nothing to worry about”.

Kageyama’s face slipped into one of his usual scowls and he noticed that the hand on his fret board formed a rigid grip. This guy was seriously beginning to play on his nerves.

Instinctively a bad taste began to form in his mouth.

He saw Iwaizumi look in his direction, and he could have sworn he saw a sympathetic look tinting his eyes slightly.

Then suddenly a noise from behind caught his attention. A snort. No, a cough. An uncomfortable, short cough had emerged from where Matsukawa sat at his drum set. Kageyama didn’t have to look back at him to know that he was toying with his drumsticks, looking down. Letting the conflict run its course without getting involved. It was something he tended to do when things got tense. 

It’s not like Matsukawa was afraid of Oikawa or anything. In fact he often found amusement in poking fun at him from time to time, or laughing along as Iwaizumi, Oikawa's willful yet trustworthy childhood friend and their band’s bassist, scolded him.

Actually it was fairly obvious that he respected the guy, acknowledging the noticeable talent he had as a well-rounded musician and front man. It was probably because of this that he didn’t get involved in the drama. Also it could have been because he thought it was stupid and counterproductive.

Which it was.

Unfortunately Oikawa had this ability of being able to heavily influence the mood of almost any situation, including the emotions of those around him. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, or a good thing as it could go either way. If he was feeling particularly good, then he was charismatic and encouraging: an ideal leader who could make you feel like you could accomplish great things by his side. But the other side of the coin was not at all pleasant. He was capable of rather ugly behavior and was not afraid of saying just the thing to set someone off. 

His moods always colored the other three to some degree.

Either way he really was a sight to behold, even though Kageyama would rather die than admit something like that out loud. That guy’s ego was already expanded to outer space and back nine times, and he was heavily committed to being the last person responsible for making that jerk any more full of himself. 

Kageyama knew that he angered him in particular. He was never this rude to the others. He was hyper-aware of the edgy awkwardness that so often loomed over the two of them. He had seen how the others would tense up, or sigh in exasperation whenever they’d argue. He knew that this group’s growth would remain stunted, that they would never be able to perform at full capacity as long as him and Oikawa carried on as they had been. And while that fact was extremely frustrating, a guy like that was basically impossible to get along with as far as he was concerned.

Kageyama played Oikawa’s songs. He played them note for note, never hiccupping, never throwing anyone else off. He stood slightly off to the side, just out of the brunette’s peripheral vision and demurely kept the melody moving along. It’s not like he sucked; in fact he’d heard the opposite from the first time he’d picked up a guitar. Compliments like ‘gifted’, ‘a natural’, and even ‘prodigy’ were thrown around. People still praised him for his talent.

Kageyama had always taken music seriously, working and pushing himself exceptionally hard to be on the level that he was. So what was Oikawa’s damage when it came to him? 

If Kageyama recalled correctly Oikawa had gotten his way since their band had formed a little less than a year ago. Practically every song they played had been composed by himself or with Iwaizumi. He also wrote a majority of their lyrics. He was even the front man of the group, the driving force, always in the center. 

Their band sounded and functioned the way it did because Oikawa had been making those sorts of decisions from the very beginning. It was clear he was in control; it wasn’t a topic that needed discussing. What more could he possibly want? 

“Oi, we should run that last one again,” Iwaizumi suggested coarsely, his low voice breaking the uneasy silence. He was rolling the sleeves of his grey t-shirt to his broad shoulders. “The second half could definitely be tighter”.

Oikawa turned a knob on his amp and then rose to his feet, slinging his mint colored guitar carefully over his head. Its polished finish gleamed in the lights of Matsukawa’s parents’ garage. “Yeah, let’s do that,” he said in a rather determined tone, bobbing his feathered hair once. It had now become clear that practice would be running late tonight.

Just as if nothing had happened mere moments before, everyone was moving back in to place, adjusting their instruments and expressions for the hard work that was on its way. Kageyama shook his head briskly in attempts to fight off the anger he felt rising inside of him. He could do this- get past how he felt about Oikawa and get the job done. There were bigger things that needed all of his energy and focus and they were quickly approaching. 

Forget him. Just play.

Oikawa steadily approached the microphone.

“We don’t stop until it’s perfect”.


End file.
